


What the Tribble Saw

by BotanyCameos, NurseDarry



Series: Perfectly Reckless [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gift Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, McCoy Centric, Sleepy Boys, Yeah probably a bit OOC, amazing art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/pseuds/BotanyCameos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/pseuds/NurseDarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Woken up and so busted over a game of squash. Post STiD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Tribble Saw

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my best fic, or even my best head-canon. There’s some lovely sleepy!Khirk fic out there which is much sweeter than this – kurohachi writes some great stuff, and you’ll recognise her themes in here. This fic came about because I demanded the amazing ID fangirl and artist, botanycameos, make me some sleepy!Khirk art, and I bribed her with this fic. 
> 
> Written in an hour and quickly whizzed past my long-suffering beta.

McCoy looked around the empty court and slapped his racquet impatiently against his thigh. It was 06:00, the time Jim had insisted they meet for a game of squash. Jim had been telling McCoy how he needed to get more exercise as he’d been mainly sedentary, or at least taking things easier, in the time it had taken to refurbish the Enterprise. As much as McCoy was pleased to see Jim looking after his health – indeed, looking after his new life, as it were – McCoy wasn’t necessarily keen to be an active participant himself. Especially this early.

He’d give Jim two minutes, no more. It wasn’t like this would be the first time Jim was late to something since they’d set off, though his delays were usually the result of some ship-wide or world-ending crisis. Jim insisted he'd left his bedroom antics on Earth, that it would be too difficult to retain the proper distance between himself and anyone he seduced when they were stuck on a tin can together millions of miles out in space…

McCoy gave in before two minutes were up and stomped over to the communication panel on the wall.

“McCoy to Kirk.” The call routed automatically to the captain’s quarters. McCoy drummed his fingers against the wall and then repeated himself. A little louder this time.

Nothing. Maybe he was on his way? Or he’d forgotten about the game? The second was more likely, McCoy thought, as he felt his irritation building.

McCoy called the Bridge.

“Sulu here. The captain isn’t here.”

“Has he been there?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I haven’t seen him since last night. I think he said he was going to the brig.”

“What?”

“That’s what he said, sir.”

McCoy didn’t thank him, just cut off the call. Why the brig? No, there was no use pretending: he knew why. Kirk had become more and more obsessed with their guest. After McCoy had used Khan's blood to return the captain from death, the powers that be at Starfleet had demanded more careful study. As chief scientist and the only one to have performed these in-depth studies – at least the more ethical ones – McCoy was now in charge of Khan’s welfare.

And since Jim had _volunteered_ McCoy to accompany him on the Enterprise’s five-year mission, Khan was also obliged to come along. It was either that or once again be put in stasis with his crew, now safely ensconced at a secure location known only to a select few, McCoy included.

In his more practical moments, McCoy was grateful for Khan’s presence. He’d proven resourceful and useful more than once. McCoy was sure it wasn’t just altruism that motivated Khan to assist the Enterprise – Jim had offered to help find Khan a place for his “family” to colonise. It had become a little project between the two of them.

That alone didn’t improve McCoy’s opinion of Khan, necessarily, nor did learning that Khan had offered his blood for an attempt to resurrect Admiral Pike. The procedure hadn’t worked – too much time had passed— but it had been the deciding factor in Kirk’s and McCoy’s acceptance of Khan as a “lab rat” on the Enterprise.

And as a lab rat, his home was a cage.

McCoy slammed his fist against the comm again. “Brig.”

“Brig here.”

“McCoy here. Is the captain there?”

“No, sir.”

“Has he been there?”

“Recently, sir? Or...when do you mean?”

“My god man, it’s a simple question. Have. You. Seen. The. Captain?”

There was an anxious pause while it sounded as though the crewman was pushing buttons or rustling papers or whatever it was he needed to do in order come up with an answer.

McCoy silently started counting to ten and only made it to four. “Crewma –”

“No sir,” said the guard. Before McCoy could yell at him again he hastily and most unsatisfyingly added “—but the captain was here last night, removing the prisoner.”

“What?” McCoy shouted. “Never mind. I’m coming down there.”

McCoy and his racquet entered the brig. Straightaway, he saw a lack of Khan in Khan’s cell.

He opened his mouth to shout a question but the guard was prepared for him and held out a PADD. “Sir, nothing is amiss. The captain was here last night, as usual, collecting the prisoner.”

As usual? What in god's name was this idiot talking about?

McCoy read the report. Indeed Jim had come to the brig and taken Khan out. Just as he had done every night for the previous two months, according to the record.

“What the hell…?” McCoy scrolled down the PADD. Each night, Kirk checked him out at around 21:30. Each morning, Khan returned just before 08:00. “Who brings him back? There’s no name.” McCoy said, giving the guard his best piercing look.

“No one, sir.”

“Come again?”

“Er…no one. He comes through the turbolift doors and walks to the cell. We let him in and he stays there all day. Unless you call us to bring him to Medbay or the Science Lab.”

McCoy took a moment to digest this information. “So no one returns him? As in, he comes back alone?”

“Yes, sir,” said the guard.

“And you don’t think that's odd?” McCoy asked, just this side of incredulous.

“Captain’s orders, sir.” That seemed to be enough for the guard. McCoy’s gaping jaw closed with a snap.

But even the stupidest of guards would have confirmed that information. Which meant that not only does Jim tell Khan to return to the brig, he actually does.

Something was missing. Not even Chekov did what the captain asked of him all the time.

McCoy tried a different tack. He glanced down at the PADD again. “It doesn’t say here where the captain takes him.”

“No, sir."

"Why not?"

"Well...he's the captain, sir. He doesn’t have to.”

“Well, he should!” McCoy insisted like an argumentative teenager. He nearly stamped his foot, too. Although he knew the guards neither needed to know, nor would feel comfortable questioning the captain's plans, it still galled him that they didn’t ask.

McCoy scowled while he thought this through: Khan was aboard the Enterprise only through his and the captain’s good graces. He was aboard as a subject of study, primarily, and that was pretty much what McCoy had been doing with him. Studying him. And since leaving Earth, the only times McCoy had ever known Jim and Khan to talk together had been when Jim visited Medbay or the science lab to discuss colonisation parameters.

Maybe Spock would know.

McCoy walked to the guard’s pristine console and mashed the comm. “Science lab.”

“Lab here,” Carol Marcus’ voice tinkled through the speaker.

“Is Khan with you?”

“Uh…no…?” McCoy could almost see the quizzical face she was probably making. If Khan wasn’t there, it must have seemed an odd question; it was six in the morning after all, according to the ship’s chronometer.

“Where’s Spock?” McCoy asked, not bothering to offer even a token explanation.

“Not here,” Carol responded just as brusquely.

McCoy ended the transmission and pressed the comm again.

“Spock!” he shouted through to the Vulcan’s quarters.

“WhdeNNhgwant!?”

Obviously he’d woken someone up. Someone who didn’t sound like the First Officer. Which meant McCoy had just disturbed the one person on the ship who got as surly as he did without a good night’s sleep.

“Sorry Lieutenant, my mistake.” McCoy quickly ended the call before Uhura could identify his voice. Oh, who was he kidding? She would have known it was him from the way he shouted Spock’s name into the comm.

He decided to worry about that later.

Fine. The captain (and Khan) weren’t in the captain’s quarters, or on the Bridge, or in the science lab. Time to try Medbay. He had some cultures that need checking anyway, so he turned and started walking.

This early the place was lightly staffed, and they were all engaged in various equipment monitoring or calibrating duties, as usual for the time of day. They paid him scant heed as he stalked around.

Nothing looked different at first. Everything was in its place, there were no patients or any active experiments other than the blood cultures. Then, glancing through into the next section of Medbay, away from the general triage and treatment areas, he saw that the blinds inside the quarantine cubicle were pulled closed.

McCoy didn’t remember running any recent tests that were toxic or light-sensitive. The only occupant of the quarantine area was usually his augmented tribble, put there to keep it from getting underfoot in the larger and busier part of Medbay. He walked into the darkened area and pressed the comm button outside the cubicle that allowed him to hear and speak through the strong transparent walls.

There was a gentle purring sound. The tribble.

There was also a gentle snoring sound.

McCoy glanced at the cubicle monitor. Nothing within the room showed as being dangerous. He cautiously opened the airlock and pulled aside the curtain.

The light from the door behind him faintly illuminated the warm room, but it still took a moment for...“Oh, hell,” he cursed when his eyes adjusted and he could see properly. “Why am I not surprised?” He stood hands-on-hips, racquet still clutched in his fist.

On the biobed, he could clearly see the captain and Khan, asleep, as a tribble wound its way lazily over the tangle of legs hidden under a thin sheet.

McCoy had known there was no way Jim would be able to remain celibate for five years, but clearly he’d not been able to make it five minutes, by the looks of things. Fair enough, Jim was Jim, but Khan didn’t seem like the kind of guy who shared.

McCoy hoped Jim knew what he was doing. Maybe Khan was just what Jim needed, if he’d managed to keep the relationship going for this long. Clearly Jim was what Khan needed. Or wanted, at least.

“I can’t wait to hear _this_ explanation,” McCoy mumbled, mostly to the tribble.

The purring continued.

The snoring continued.

McCoy cleared his throat.

_Purrrr..._

_Snorrrre..._

McCoy shook his head, looked heavenward, then hissed, “Jim, we’re under attack by the Klingons.”

The snoring stopped.

McCoy heard Jim murmur through a yawn, “…sort that out for me, will ya?”

The response was a long sigh and “Mmm…sleeping…”

There was a slow sensual rearrangement of bodies, judging from the movement of the sheet. McCoy took a step forward and rescued the tribble before it was accidentally knocked off the bed. No one seemed particularly worried about an imminent Klingon invasion. The captain and his captive appeared content to doze in the dark to the tribble’s soft purring.

“You idiots,” muttered McCoy, wondering how long Jim and Khan thought their nights together could be kept a secret. “Jim, if you don’t wake up, I’m gonna throw this tribble at you.”

“Tribble, yeah. Better move it,” murmured Jim.

“Mm-m…told you….sleeping…” Khan’s velvet voice echoed around the small room. “Mmmm…”

Slowly McCoy surmised they were not _just_ dozing as he heard soft wet kissing noises. Gods above, he didn’t need to be witness to any more intimacy for one morning.

“Jim!” McCoy shouted. “Wake up, damn it!”

“Bones!” Jim started awake, sat straight up and banged his head against the exam light above the bed. “Ow! Right! Squash. I’m there.” He rubbed his head and blinked blearily into the gloom.

“No, you’re not _there_ ,” stated McCoy matter-of-factly. “You’re here.”

“Bones…? BONES!” Jim had evidently figured out this wasn’t a dream and he hastily yanked most of the sheet across himself, exposing quite a bit more of his companion than Bones really wanted to see. Jim glanced over his shoulder at the dark head on the pillow beside him, then turned and squinted back at McCoy with an expression that quickly changed from surprise to feigned innocence to sheepishness. “This isn’t…uh…this, this…uh… Shit.”

“James.” A long arm reached around Jim’s torso and attempted to pull the sheet back.

Jim turned his head again and hissed, “Shhh!” When Jim’s attention returned to McCoy, he was all smiles and bravado. “I was supposed to meet you at the courts, wasn’t I? Yeah…I’ll be right there!” He ran a hand hastily through his unkempt hair.

“Forget it,” McCoy said, using the same resigned tone he so often seemed to when addressing his friend. He looked again at the couple on the bed, then turned to leave. “Just be sure to get your heart rate high enough that you at least get some cardiovascular benefit.”

Making sure to take the tribble, McCoy closed the two heavy doors behind him.

 

The End


End file.
